Once Again
by LuvWhatUDo
Summary: Cliffhanger style fan fic devoted mainly to the Carter Kem Abby story line. Reviews are welcome and hopefully I will be able to incorporate your suggestions into future chapters.
1. Chapter 1 Kissingani

Chapter 1- Kissingani

The shadow of late afternoon is beginning to cast its welcome shade on a humble building that houses a simple clinic.

Carter is making his rounds though the patient filled halls. The sight of their helplessness and poverty, as always, tears at his heart but he is impressed with their perseverance, patience, and kindness even in the most desperate of situations.

"Bonjour", John calls out in an American-tinged French accent as he walks down a particularly wide corridor. He tries to greet the patients and their families with a smile and warm expression, knowing that this is the best comfort that he may be able to give many of them.

He rounds the corner and enters a small office that contains a window, a worn chair and a meager desk that is indiscriminately covered by towering piles of paper. The walls are decorated with hastily hung pictures and mementos in an effort to try to humanize the room's otherwise austere appearance.

He sits in the chair and begins to jot down some notes.

_Died September 5, 2005 - orphan girl from the Central Congo. Name: - unknown. Exact age: - unknown. Approximate age: - between 10 -15 years old. Cause of death: – pneumonia caused by Haemophilus influenzae type b. Distinguishing marks: - crescent shaped mole left upper thigh. Slight overbite._

He writes everything as quickly as possible, and then he proceeds to hastily staple a Polaroid of the child to his notes.

There are 5 other 'John Doe' patients who died over the last 72 hours, and he wants to try to get through all of their details before Angelique calls him for some backup.

Deep down he knows that writing these cases up is an exercise in futility – Angelique has even said as much – but he hopes that one day someone will care enough to lookup these people and find out what became of a son, or a daughter…or a beloved sibling.

He sighs as he finishes writing down the brief details for the last John Doe, and then he allows his right hand to caress his smooth face. He grins as he remembers the first time he worked in the clinic. His beard had grown in nicely by that time – at least in his apparently isolated opinion – and it had felt pleasantly coarse beneath his fingertips.

He pauses, leans back slightly in his chair, and looks out the window as he thinks of Paris and how he came to be in the Congo again.


	2. Chapter 2 Haste

Chapter 2: Haste

Paris, France

May 2005

_She won't open the door_, he thinks as he pounds his fists on the apartment door. _Worse yet, she is out with Michel. Oh, God…maybe she is even home with Michel and he has interrupted their lover's liaison._ A torrent of oppressive and unwelcome thoughts floods his brain, as he tries desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to drown his hopes and his heart.

He dips his head towards the floor and puts his hands resignedly on the either side of the door's frame. He is certain that he has lost her.

But a miracle happens, and light enters the hall as Kem opens the door. Her face is a mix of emotions – surprise, consternation, and exasperation.

He moves quickly across the door's threshold, enters the apartment's foyer, and before she can say anything he says, "I'm moving back to Africa and we can start over, and do everything we didn't do before. You can take as long as you need. You can take a month, you can take a year, you can take ten years. I don't care. And I'm not leaving without you, and I'm not living without you. I love you."

A smile lights up her face and she cannot help but giggle. John says it again, but this time slower and with more emphasis, "I love you".

She clasps her hands together and places them over her mouth and chin as her eyes begin to swell with tears. Her giggles have turned to quiet sobs and John reaches out to press her body into his.

Although she doesn't resist his efforts as he hugs her tightly to him, she turns her head to one side against his chest as she begins to think about what her mother told her earlier that afternoon.


	3. Chapter 3 L’ Hopital

Chapter 3: L' Hopital

"Don't be a fool, Kem", her mother says gently from her hospital bed. Fabienne's skin was still a bit pale from her recent illness, but otherwise she looked quite young for someone who had recently celebrated her fifty-fourth birthday.

"He loves you. He came half a world away to be with you", she continues. "Such love however, will not last forever." She pauses and straightens out a wrinkle in her top bed sheet as she thinks of another way to get her daughter to open up to her.

"I know that it won't be forever", Kem says quietly as she bites pensively on her lower lip. "But, Maman, he doesn't need me to love him. There are other women there who love him…One woman who loves him", she said thinking about Abby Lockhart.

Although, John had never stated it directly, she knew that he and Abby had been a serious couple. Their body language, their familiarity, and especially the direct stares that she had received from Abby all pointed to one undeniable fact. She and John had once been in love.

This thought did not anger her as much as it brought home to her one salient fact. Abby Lockhart fit into John's world. She was comfortable in Chicago. In short, _she_ belonged.

"Besides Maman, I don't belong in his world", she states as her voice breaks in a hopeless effort to control her tears. "I tried…," she says slowly between sobs, "…but I just don't…I can't understand the city and those people and his friends," she stops speaking, trying to regain some control over her emotions. "It is not my world. I belong in the Congo. I belong to my work", she says finally.

Her mother regards her silently for a second, and then arches an eyebrow and says, "Nonsense, Kem. Did you open your heart to his friends? To his city?" She pauses, carefully choosing her next words, "Kem, mon cher petite, as much as you may try the _Congo_ is not your home."

She continues quickly before her daughter can object, "You were not raised in the Congo…in many ways it is as foreign to you as it is to me. I know that you love your father. I loved him too once. And I am impressed and proud that as a daughter you have decided to dedicate your life to his dreams. But he chose his path and he lived his life according to that choice. Your efforts so far have allowed you to fulfill part of his dream, but he would not want you to live his life as if it were your life," she says emphatically.

Kem is crying openly now, as her mother's words conflict and intermix with images of her father's smiling face…with images of his broken, lifeless body.

Her mother continues in a gentle yet firm tone, "You had dreams before he was murdered. You have a formidable education and mind that will enable you to make those ambitions into more than dreams, if you let them. Your father loved you. He would not have wanted you to make his life into yours. At some point, you must let go and you must live the life that you wanted before he died." Fabienne holds out her hand to her daughter. Kem hesitates for a moment, and then hurries to her mother's bedside where she knells and places her head on her mother's chest.

Fabienne gently strokes her daughter's smooth black hair as she says, "I do not know anything about this Chicago, but I do not believe that it is so different from London or Paris. If you want to fit there, you will fit."

She tilts Kem's face up to her own and lovingly caresses the line of her jaw before she asks, "Which life will you choose? Yours or your father's?"


	4. Chapter 4 Once Again

Chapter 4: Once Again

Kem's thoughts return to the present, where John is tilting her chin up to his face. Her deep brown eyes return his intense gaze, as her mother's question fills her thoughts, "_Which life will you choose?_"

She places her slender, delicate hand on the back of his neck and gently urges his mouth to hers._ Oh, how she's missed that mouth_, she thinks as they begin to kiss.

It's a gentle kiss. A kiss meant to erase the anguish of their separation, and it is filled with the taste of their mutual tears.

When they finally part, both lovers feel like an eternity has passed, and even so the time spent during their kiss was still too short.

No words are spoken and then in a hushed barely audible voice, Kem says, "I love you."

John stares at her intently, but does not speak. Myriad thoughts race through his head. _Weren't these the words that he wanted to hear? So why didn't he say something? Was he in love with the prize? Or had he onlybeen in love with the pursuit? _

"I love you so much", she continues in a somewhat louder voice that is still tinged with the euphoria of their recent kiss.

He continues to stare at her intently as he measures the light weight of her in his arms. He raises a hand to caress her face – a face whose features are so exquisitely delicate that every time he sees her she makes him think of a porcelain doll maker's masterpiece effort.

A wide smile begins to grow on his face as he thinks, _Oh my God, she really is the one…The feel of her…The taste of her. She really could break his heart._

He wants desperately to tell her again that he loves her but he cannot seem to get words to come out of his mouth. Instead, he pulls her close to him again and as he does his mind fills with the memories of their first all-night talk, their first kiss, and their first time as lovers.

One thought now dominates all others in his mind – their kiss this time would not be gentle and would not be innocent.


	5. Chapter 5 Taxi, Taxi

Chapter 5: Taxi, Taxi

_He is everywhere. His tongue. His mouth. He is fire, and everyplace he touches leaves me burning and wanting more._ These are the ragged thoughts that fill her mind as John kisses her. And even though she is filled to the core of her being with passion for him, she pushes his body suddenly and roughly away from hers.

However, she does not allow them to part completely because she grabs his left hand and envelops it in a tight grasp. She looks down at the floor as she tries to catch her breath in short gasps.

A look of hurt and confusion appears immediately on John's face. But as she looks up from the floor to his eyes, his negative expression is replaced by a look of mutual understanding.

Her mother's apartment and her mother's bed are not the places for their lover's reunion.

He returns the strong grasp that she has on his hand and he begins to pull her quickly out of the apartment.

She tries to resist a little so that they can slow down. She needs to change from her slippers into shoes, button her shirt, comb her hair…but he refuses her attempts to slow their speed and she has barely enough time to close the door before they start down the stairs. Even though she cannot see his face and he has not said a word, his feelings are clear – this is not the time for such minor practicalities.

The two of them remain silent as they continue their descent, and the only sounds that can be heard are the sounds of their muffled footfalls on the apartment building's velvet red staircase runner.

They emerge from the building into a heavy downpour. John hesitates for a second, and releases Kem's hand as he looks for something.

The rain immediately soaks Kem's hair, so she pushes the wet strands from her face and smoothes them to the back of her head with a graceful movement of her hands.

She thinks that John is looking for the little blue car that Michel has loaned to her so she leans forward to tap John on his shoulder in order to tell him that she had to park it down the street about half a block away.

But as she leans towards him, John suddenly takes her hand and begins to pull her decisively in the opposite direction of Michel's car.

Kem tries to peer though the heavy rain in the direction where John is taking them, and she sees that a dark Mercedes-Benz sedan with a Taxi sign on top is double-parked a few hundred feet away from the entrance to her building.

As they approach, the driver gets out of the car. He has a cell phone up to his ear and an unmistakably irritated look on his face.

The driver had just happened to see John as he was looking in his rearview mirror. Now that he has spotted John, he takes this occasion as an opportunity to let John know, in broken English of course, that he did not appreciate John's not paying him, and that he is in the process of informing the Paris police as to the whereabouts of this deadbeat American.

John stammers out an apology in simple French sentences before he takes out a thick stack of neatly clipped Francs to demonstrate his good intention.

The driver regards him wearily and then aborts his call to the police. He steps forward to take the money, but before he can grasp the bills, John pulls his hand away and says, "Hotel, George Cinq, s'il vous plait."

The taxi cab driver regards John intently for a moment and then he glances at Kem. He returns his gaze back to John as he raises an eyebrow, and then a small smile forms on his lips. He nods his head and he turns to open the passenger door for John and Kem.

John waves him off so that he can open the door for Kem. She slides into the taxi, happy to be out of the deluge that is currently flooding Paris. She moves over to the far side of the car and waits with anticipation for John to get in and relax beside her on the mildly cool leather seat. John closes his door and the driver starts the cab and heads in the direction of the hotel.

"How long will it take to reach the hotel?" John asks. The driver glances quickly at John in his rearview mirror before returning his attention to the road and says in his heavily accented English, "Traffic this direction not so bad. Maybe 15 – 20 minutes before we reach the hotel." John is satisfied with the answer and nods appreciatively.

_The Georges V_, she thinks. She opens her mouth to object but John shakes his head no, and then turns to look out the window on his side of the taxi.

His thoughts could not be clearer. If they couldn't have this memory at his hotel in Chicago, then they would have this instead.

Kem closes her eyes, relaxes against the seat, and places her hands on top of each other in her lap. She starts to tremble slightly. Although the rain had not been cold, it also had not been warm. After all, it was only May and this was Paris.

John redirects his gaze from the window back to her face and he sees that her body is shaking ever so slightly. He reaches his hand over to take one of her handsand he finds that it is cold, almost freezing, to the touch. A look of concern crosses his face and he turns to the driver with a look of desperate consternation.

_I don't know the words_, he thinks. _She needs me now and I don't know the words._ But even as this feeling of desperation begins to envelop him, Kem reaches out her hand and starts to caress the side of his face. Then she turns toward the driver and asks him in French to please turn on the heat.

John watches her – mesmerized by her sound and her face. After Kem finishes speaking to the driver, he feels the warm blast of the car's heaters and he begins to smile again. He pulls her forehead to his. Without even a word to her, she understood.

_She knows me…Without even a word, she knows me. She knows me too well. _

Suddenly, a new, less pleasant thought enters his mind._ Will there be any mystery left if we have a lasting relationship? Or will we be burn out quickly like a raging fire that has already enveloped everything in its path and now has only its dying embers as fuel?_

_Only time will tell, _he decides resignedly._ And it is time that he owes to her and that especially owes to himself_, he decides silently to himself.

He let's go of her hand and pulls a cell phone from his coat.

"That won't work here", Kem says in her soft, lilting accent.

He smiles and shakes his head slyly. "It's a GSM phone. I rented one when I arrived at De Gaulle."

"Hmmm….", she says sweetly. "Employing the Boy Scouts' motto, I see."

He looks down as he flashes her one of his shy smiles, then he pulls his wallet from his inside coat pocket and he takes out a black credit card. He deftly flips it over and begins to dial a set of numbers located on its back surface.

The phone number he dialed begins to ring, and he focuses his concentration on what is being asked. He pauses for a second, then flips the card over again and begins to punch in more numbers.

John pauses again waiting for a response. A female voice answers in a prim British accent, "American Express Customer Service. How may I assist you?"

"May I have your Concierge Desk please?" John asks.

"Certainly - one moment Sir, while I connect you."

Her voice is quickly replaced with the sound of tasteful, yet dispassionately played classical music as he is put on hold.

A few seconds later, another female voice, also with a British accent, comes on the line.

"American Express Concierge Desk for Executive Members. My name is Anne."

Anne proceeds to ask the perfunctory questions expected of her, such as the name on the account and the current billing address. John answers each question to her satisfaction until she finally asks him the question that he has been wanting to hear, "How may I assist you?"

"I need reservations at the George V in Paris, France. And I want a very special room with, hopefully, a nice view of the city. Can you assist me with this?" John asks in a friendly yet firm tone.

"Yes, sir. For which dates are you inquiring?"

"Ah…the check-in will be for tonight and the check-out will be…" he hesitates for second as he leans towards Kem. "What day is your mother scheduled to be released?"

"Sometime at the end of next week – either that Friday or that weekend", she says.

He leans away from Kem and directs his attention back to his conversation with Anne. "The check-out will be a week from today."

"Alright, let me see if I have everything", Anne says. "You want a room, preferably one of their best, with a view of city. Checking-in this evening with a check-out date of next Thursday", she says efficiently.

"Correct", John replies.

"Please hold sir, while I contact the hotel's reservation desk."

Anne's voice is instantly replaced by the classical music and John returns his attention to Kem. She is resting casually against the backseat with her eyes closed gently shut. He notices that she is no longer trembling and he angles his body so that his left hand can easily take hold of her left hand.

She stirs as he does so and turns to look at him.

The car's warmth has finally penetrated her body, and her hand is no longer cold to the touch.

He changes his grasp on her hand so that all fingers, but his thumb, are lightly wrapped around her wrist. Then he begins to slide his thumb firmly, slowly in an up-and-down motion over the tendons in her wrist, expertly massaging her radial pulse with each pass.

Her lips part in an unspoken moan. She draws closer to him as if to kiss him. He half closes his eyes as he is drawn to meet her.

Just then a faint, disembodied voice can be heard and their moment is effectively interrupted.

The phone has slipped away from John's ear but it is still close enough so that he can hear Anne asking him if he is on the line.

"Yes, I'm here", he responds a bit more testily than he had intended. He looks away from Kem in an effort to refocus his thoughts on something less passionate.

"Mr. Carter, the Reservation Desk at the Georges Cinq informs me that at this late date they only have suites available. However, based on your request I believe that a suite is what you had in mind", she states.

"Exactly. Do they have a recommendation as to which room best meets my needs?" he asks.

"It depends. Do you want a room with a specific theme? Like English, or Countryside or…" John interrupts her before she can continue. "No, I think in this case a traditional room will do."

"Very well, then they have two recommendations. There is a One-Bedroom Deluxe Suite with a full marble bath, foyer, balcony and a view of the Garnier Opera House. However, for a truly special time, they highly recommend the Royal One-bedroom Suite. The hotel contains only two of these rooms, and one of them happens to be available for the dates that you requested", she says.

"Hmmm…and the amenities?" Carter asks.

"The view is not as well known as that of the Opera House, however I can assure you that it is quite exclusive. The room is located on the first floor, and features its own private terrace and entrance, a full foyer, a marble fireplace, full marble bathroom including a soaking tub, sauna and steam room. It is one of the finest rooms in Paris and would definitely go a long way into making this a special occasion", she says convincingly.

John is silent. _So much lavishness… So much opulence_, he thinks. These are things that he normally shies away from, but then he looks at Kem and a small smile begins to tug at the corner of his mouth. _What was it about her that made him want to share all these things with her? _He shakes his head and another thought comes to mind. _Certainly, they could think of lots of things to do in a room like that._

"We'll take the Royal Suite.", he says matter-of-factly.

"Do you wish to know the room rate per evening or do you want to know the price for your entire stay?" she asks.

"Entire stay", he says.

Anne quotes a 5-digit figure.

"Fine. Bill it and all other charges for the room to this card."

"Very well", she replies. "Management would also like to know if you will require a Butler during your visit? They assure me that all of their butlers have received their training at the International Butler Academy and can assist you with all aspects of your stay."

John stifles the urge to chuckle out loud – that Butler thing is a really a bit too much. He politely responds to the suggestion by saying, "No, I think that will be too intrusive."

"No problem. At what time will you be checking in tonight, sir?" she asks.

John remembers what the taxi driver said, and checks the time on his watch.

"In about 5-10 minutes", he replies.

"Very well, then. I will confirm these reservations with the hotel's Management and inform them of your imminent arrival. Will there be anything more?" she asks.

"No, thank you. That will be all for now."

"Good evening then sir and enjoy your stay", she says pleasantly before she disconnects her line.

John closes his line and puts the phone back into his coat pocket. Neither he nor Kem say a word. Nor do they dare to touch each other for fear of what may happen next.


	6. Chapter 6 George V

Chapter 6 – George V

Time seems to pass in an achingly slow manner, but finally they arrive at the hotel.

The bellhop moves quickly towards their taxi and opens Kem's door as John pays the cab driver.

As Kem exits the car, she notices a faint look of distaste on the bellhop's face. She can just imagine what she must look like, with her hair wet, shirt half buttoned, and her thoroughly soaked bedroom slippers. Certainly, this is not one of her finer fashion moments.

John hurriedly gets out of the taxi, takes Kem's hand, and rushes them inside to the hotel's lobby. He appears to be oblivious to everything except getting them to their room. However, just before they enter the doors to the lobby, John calls back over his shoulder for the bellhop to get his bag out of the taxi's trunk.

She shakes her head and smiles to herself. She loves that about him. His ability to appear entirely focused on one thing, while remaining aware of everything around him. She loves that duality in his character. It makes her feel relaxed and protected whenever she's with him.

They enter the impressively decorated and ornate lobby of the Georges V, where Kem decides to focus her attention exclusively on John in a determined effort to ignore the inquisitive stares of the other guests. _Our physical appearance may not disturb John, _she thinks, _but I am beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable._

John walks them to the Registration Desk where he immediately introduces himself, "Good evening. I'm John Carter. I believe that you have a room for me."

The night manager overhears John's statement and takes over. "Yes, sir. Bonsoir and Bienvenue – we have been expecting you." The night manager is an attractively coiffed middle-age man who exudes confidence and friendliness without seeming too servile.

"Your suite is almost ready", he continues. "In fact, we are in the process of refreshing the flower arrangements in your salon and bedroom. While the staff completes that task, may I see your credit card?" he asks politely.

John hands over his Amex card, and the manager uses it to complete the check-in process.

As the manager finishes this step, another man suddenly appears behind the desk. This man, who could easily pass as a younger carbon copy of the night manager, catches the older man's eye and nods silently.

The manager refocuses his attention on John and says, "Your room is ready. If you will be so kind as to follow me, I will take you to your suite." The manager hands the Amex card back to John and begins to move from behind the Reception Desk.

"That's quite alright", says John good-naturedly. "If you just direct us to the correct hall, I'm sure that we will find our way."

A small smile appears on the manager's face, and he responds politely and patiently. "At the Georges Cinq, it is our custom to personally escort guests of the Royal Suite directly to their rooms."

John nods appreciatively, and then he glances at Kem who simply shrugs her shoulders and looks at him with her own version of his sly smile. They both share a soft laugh and then proceed to follow the manager while still holding hands.

John once again begins playing with her wrist, and she suddenly wishes that the manager would quicken his pace from their current walking speed to an all-out run.

Knowing that the latter is not really an option, she tries to pull her hand from John's grasp. However, he refuses her attempts and instead gently pulls her hand even tighter into his own. She does not need to see his face to know that his boyish good-looks are plastered with a not so innocent smirk even as he pretends to be listening to the manager's spiel about the hotel's wide assortment of activities.

_Fine,_ she says to herself. _Two can play at this game, _and she decides that the best way to handle the situation is to respond to John's antics with a few of her own.

She remembers that the palms of his hands are especially sensitive to certain movements. So she begins to slowly move the tips of her fingers with a light, featherlike action over the base and center of his right palm, and she alternates that movement with a firm but light scraping of her short fingernails on the tender skin of his hand.

Her actions have the desired effect because John suddenly stands straighter and stops his activity with her wrist.

He decides to glance back at her. Even though his face shows her a look of indigent shock, his warm, brown eyes are filled with a look of mischievous desire.

They finally arrive at the suite's door. The manager opens the door and promptly hands John the keycard.

John and Kem follow him through the long marble foyer, past a stunning arrangement of pink and white roses, until they enter a sumptuous room accented by long drapes, 2 crystal chandeliers, and several pieces of impressive furniture.

The manager starts to describe the room's features in a casual yet professional tone, "You have a full kitchen at your disposal, a separate office with the latest technology including internet, fax and printer, and all decorations are authentic 18th and 19th century antiques."

The manager turns around and faces the young couple. "The…", and as he catches the look in John's eyes he stops speaking. John's expression is unmistakable; the last thing that John and Kem need right now is a guided-tour of their room.

"The hotel's staff is at your service twenty-four hours a day. Merci for selecting the Georges V, and I hope that you enjoy your stay", the manager says quickly and then he walks past the couple to exit the room.

The manager closes the suite's door and smiles. _Ah…Paris,_ he muses silently.

Inside, John and Kem are still holding hands, but neither is looking at the other. Now that they are finally alone together the timing feels awkward and neither of them knows who should make the next move.

"John", says Kem.

He loves the way she says his name. She has a way of saying his name in an accent that he finds somewhat European, and yet uniquely her own - a way that never fails to get his attention and arouse his desire for her touch.

She pulls her hand from his and turns so that she is standing face-to-face with him. She runs her hands over her damp hair as she brings her eyes to look into his.

Then she redirects her gaze from his eyes to his mouth as she takes the thumb of one of her now wet hands and drags it lightly down the center of John's lips making sure to give the lower one a firm tug as she completes the move.

Every nerve in John's body is on fire. He pulls her roughly into his arms and begins to kiss her hard.

"Oh God, it's been too long", she breathlessly stutters out. John groans as his body shudders in agreement with her statement. And each becomes lost in the magic of the other.


End file.
